The Price Of Life
by JakeCrown
Summary: Imagine story arcs like the 'Diary of a Space Tyrant' series by Issac Asimov. A little bit of 'Darth Bane' thrown in there too. A fast-paced wicked romp through the galaxy like a wompa on crack.
1. Chapter 1

AN: I have a love of twisting, turning, and, evolving morality. Don't think you can predict this plot or where it is going. If you think it is going one way, LOOK OUT! You are about to be blind-sided.

Beware twisted morality ahead...

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A few galactic centuries or so ago...

My friend and college Nam Poorf was a human male like I. He was in the same Jedi creche as I. We were raised together from infant-hood. We learned the art of Lightsaber combat together under the masters of the Jedi Order. We learned to feel the Force and manipulate the world around us with it. How to heal the flesh. How to grow and control nature.

We failed the initiate trials to become Jedi Padawans together. I failed for aggressiveness and apathy. He failed for being a know-it-all and cowardice.

We joined the Agriculture Service Corps of the Jedi Oder together. We learned the things that most Jedi Knights know through flash-training, as all Agricorps do. We were told to practice the programmed skills on our free time. Nam didn't practice very often. I practice every chance I get.

The real difference between he and I now, is that I am angry about my life of service. He is grateful for his.

We were brothers in every sense of the word. I made anyone that tried to stop us in our duties cry in unjedi-like agony and he talked us out of trouble almost every day. I resented his knowledge filled mind strongly and he loathed my existence.

True brothers.

We were headed to Coruscant when it happened. Nam, the navigator. I, the pilot. I was piloting a vessel registered as a Class VI Bulk Freighter. We had unloaded and were returning for another trip. We had delivered 2,000 tons of denta beans, pickles, dry soap, bacta patches, and med-kits to the poor and down-trodden of the strip-mined world of Bonaban.

Such is the life of a Jedi drop-out.

Coruscant is where we were to pick up another load before heading out again. That would have been too nice a job for the universe to throw at me. Life has never been that simple though.

First I felt pain. As if a million blaster bolts slammed into my skull in a single instant. I fell to my knees. The ghosts of thousands of Jedi cried out at once. It felt as if the universe had ended. I felt The Masters who had raised me from infant-hood die in misery. I felt the younglings in the temple get slaughtered like animals.

Rage took hold of me. I closed my eyes and screamed in pain and anger. I had never felt so angry and helpless. All those force sensitives crying out in death was a terrible and mind-changing experience to a force sensitive mind.

The force was strong in me. It manifested my mind's excitation with the power of what is known as 'Sith Lightning'. I blasted the small cock-pit containing Nam and I with a ten minute torrent of pain and anger solidified into pure power. Before this event, I was never very good at dealing with loss. I felt it keenly at the time.

I awoke from my tantrum to the smell of smoke and sparking circuitry. The navigation panel in front of me was warped and smoldering. I smelled the awful scent I associate with a Jedi funeral ritual. I stared at the distant stars of the sky rather than what I knew sat in the co-pilot seat next to me. My eyes were dry of tears. I numbly noted that we had dropped from hyperspace far short of our three week destination.

Maybe this is all a dream? Maybe I did not feel everyone I know die? Maybe I did not cook my only friend with the powers of the dark side?

A glance to the side dashed the notion. Nam's smoldering body and expression of agony told a story in of itself. I had lost control and burned the life out of him in a very painful manner. Most Jedi would be crying in guilt and misery at this point. I was not a regular Jedi though.

I was an Agricorps dropout.

I remember when I was very young the Healer had told me something I had not paid much mind to about human anatomy. When in fetal development the mother's body will sometimes release certain hormones that have an effect on the hormone response of the developing child. These hormone will dull or heighten the response to the infant's brain to certain hormones it is subjected to. I was told I was slow to respond to certain emotion producing hormones.

I and one in fifty humans were given this ability. Sociopath some called it. Borderline anti-social personality disorder to others. Warrior genes to some. It pretty much boiled down to the same thing though. I can make decisions without an emotional influence. Jedi are supposed to suppress guilt. I could just flat-out decide not to have any. It would come innumerable times.

It came in handy at this moment.

I rose from the pilot seat and walked out of the cock-pit, sealing the door behind me. I walked the hundred meters or so to my quarters. A stiff drink got poured into a glass and I sat my ass down in a comfortable reclining massage chair I saved for times like these. I then did what any hiding-from-depression person would do. Calling the remote control to my hand with a simple application of the force.

I turned on the Holo-news.

A blue Chancellor Palpatine started floating in front of me. He looked wrinkled and scarred beyond belief. I forgot a few of my troubles for an instant and concentrated on hearing what the crazy-ass politician had gotten himself into this week.

**_These Jedi murderers left me scarred, left me deformed, but they could not scar my integrity! They could not deform my resolve! The remaining traitors will be hunted down, rooted out wherever they may hide, and brought to justice, dead or alive! All collaborators will suffer the same fate. Those who protect the enemy are the enemy! Now is the time! Now we will strike back! Now we will destroy the destroyers! Death to the enemies of the democracy!_******

**_This has been the most trying of times, but we have passed the test. The war is over!_******

**_The Separatists have been utterly defeated, and the Republic will stand. United! United and free!_******

**_The Jedi Rebellion was our final test—it was the last gasp of the forces of darkness! Now we have left that darkness behind us forever, and a new day has begun! It is morning in the Republic!_******

**_Never again will we be divided! Never again will sector turn against sector, planet turn against planet, sibling turn against sibling. We are one nation, indivisible!_******

**_To ensure that we will always stand together, that we will always speak with a single voice and act with a single hand, the Republic must change. We must evolve. We must grow. We have become an empire in fact; let us become an Empire in name as well! We are the first Galactic Empire!_******

**_We are an Empire that will continue to be ruled by this august body! We are an Empire that will never return to the political manoeuvring and corruption that have wounded us so deeply; we are an Empire that will be directed by a single sovereign, chosen for life!_******

**_We are an Empire ruled by the majority! An Empire ruled by a new Constitution! An Empire of laws, not of politicians! An Empire devoted to the preservation of a just society. Of a safe and secure society! We are an Empire that will stand ten thousand years!_******

**_We will celebrate the anniversary of this day as Empire Day. For the sake of our children. For our children's children! For the next ten thousand years! Safety! Security! Justice and peace!_******

**_Say it with me! Safety, Security, Justice, and Peace! Safety, Security, Justice, and Peace!_**

The holo-unit burst into sparks as my mind crushed it into a little plasteel ball. The bottle of ale next to me got drained in a few seconds after that. I glared at the bulkhead in-front of me and thought about my options as a traitor to the new Empire. I swore then and there to see Palpatine destroyed. Not killed, as that would be to good for him. I want him to feel the death of everyone he cared about and be helpless to stop it. I want him to feel fear and pain to the end of time. I want him to live forever as my metaphorical and literal toilet.

I wanted to breathe smoke.

All those innocent younglings who died in agony... I felt them all.

I want to avenge them in a way no Jedi ever would.


	2. Chapter 2

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Early 19BBY

It was not too hard to shut my self to the feelings of grief with the force. I had been trained from childhood to have little emotion. The recent accident of my emotional outburst had shown me the error of letting my hatred for the galaxy turned against me show. I have sixty four episodes of my favourite holo-dramas stored in my destroyed emitter.

At 16 years old, I am an enemy to everyone in the galaxy.

Why the hell the Jedi decided to rebel is beyond me. Why the hell they didn't let the Agricorps know about it, I have an idea about. What the hell did those younglings do to deserve the agonizing deaths I felt through the force?

I am not without resources though. This ship I had been piloting back and forth across the galaxy was registered as a Class VI Bulk Freighter was not exactly what she seems. It had been used by the Jedi service corps for close to 3 thousand years. Many of those years had been years of war. This ship was one that had lasted through some tough times.

Praetorian-class Frigates are power-prefabs for their size and class. Two point defense lasercannon batteries that need a hundred crew or so to maintain. Two weaponized tractor-beam projectors that need even more crew to use and maintain. Two turbolaser batteries that were... just way beyond my ability to maintenance at all.

A very large hanger with space for twelve fighters and six shuttles or gunboats. It had two shuttles parked in the rusty old cavern of a hanger. I had used both extensively to deliver relief to starving peoples.

I alone have no hope of using it as the capital ship it was meant to be. I can't even pilot it from the main bridge without a hundred people to man the positions. Nam and I had been using the emergency backup cock-pit to get anywhere. A large amount of astromech droids were utilized in keeping our bumbling from blowing out the reactor.

Without Nam, I am without a navigator. Making piloting this big kath hound twice as difficult. Luckily, there is a navicomputer I can use, as soon as I read the manual. After my holo-drama time.

I had piloted the ship out of the hyper-lane and put the astromechs to work. A complete removal of all Jedi symbolism, Republic marking, or, Registration.

I lied back on the bunk and watched holo-dramas on Nam's older model holo-projector. Kyp Sollen had almost stolen the Separatist General's Luxury liner before getting surrounded by 'clankers'.

"Oh, how is he going to escape this one?" I asked the wall, through chewing bits of nerf steak and pop-denta.

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Two weeks later

I have two weeks worth of rations left. An ugly old bitch of a ship to call my own. No identification. No allies. Never really had family or friends.  
>No mentor or teacher. I have a lightsaber though.<p>

I have to do something or starve to death alone.

The frigate got parked on an asteroid of trash orbiting Raxus. I left my only real possession, my lightsaber, on the old rust bucket. One astromech was online to monitor the hypermatter reactor and keep the emissions low. I left on one of the shuttles in the hanger bay.

The richest and most powerful worlds lie in the galactic core. Coruscant, Foerost, Kaut, ect.

After a short hyperspace jump, I was near Lianna. Too far from the planet to get stopped. I waited for the navicomputer to finish lightspeed calculations and thought about what was in store for me.

This hyperlane goes all the way to the core worlds. I will for as hell get stopped as soon as I drop from hyperspace at Coruscant.

Kriffing hell, this is ballsy.

I pulled the lever on the little republic transport shuttle and the stars began to blur.


	3. Chapter 3

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Still early 19 BBY. Two and a half weeks after last segment.

As I ran out of food and water three galactic days ago, I began to meditate. I stayed seated in the pilot's chair of the transport in a trance. It was the first time I have meditated since I was an Initiate at the Jedi Temple. I felt peace for the first time in a long time. I was without anger and hatred. It gave me the feeling that all was right in the universe. The force fed and watered my body. Eventually, I felt the vibration of hyperspace end and opened my eyes.

The feelings of an angry and abandoned sixteen year old human male came back with a rush.

I pushed the accelerator to the max and set toward the planet below as fast as the little shuttle could go. Dodging in and out of transports, cruisers and freighters I weaved a wicked trail of exhaust as only the maddest Jedi could achieve. The chance of success is low.

_The chance of survival, is even lower._

I will crash this ship straight into Palpatine's office and blow that son of a nerf turd to Korriban. My favourite Holo-drama character, Kyp Sollen, went out this way in the last episode and so would I. All Holo-net transmissions are now restricted under the order of the new Emperor. There would be no more Holo-dramas.

"Unmarked Repub*Cough* Imperial shuttle, You are breaking the speed limit. You will decelerate your thusters and await detainment in the appropriate lane." Came a male voice over the com line.

I pressed the com-key and made a reply. "Sure, Just bend over in front of the ship and I'll park right in your lane." I threw out a line of Kyp's from the first season.

Another close call with a freighter. I barrel rolled around around it and hit the axillary thrusters with everything I had.

_Almost to the atmosphere! So Close!_

The com made another reply, this time in the familiar voice of Jango Fett. "You're in a lotta trouble, kid." Before I could make another snappy remark, I felt the shuttle lurch to a stop. I strained the engines to break from the tractor-beam. The engine whined it's last hissing breath before I caught the scent of blown circuitry coming from the air vents.

I saw a blue electrical flash of an ion shot from the view port and ducked away from the instrument panel before it erupted into flames. I felt the shuttle hit a deck and ran into the passenger cabin through the smoke.

After ripping the stabilizer rail off a seat, I pushed the emergency exit release at the only entrance port to the small shuttle. As the smoke and I escaped from the burning shuttle, I felt a warning in the force. I turned my head and saw a stun bolt's blue ring heading towards my face.

_Blackness._


	4. Chapter 4

"He should be conscious in a moment sir." I heard a synthesized voice intone.

I felt cold hard durasteel under my body. I was in a seating position. My eyes opened. The light was harsh and blinding in my face. I squinted at the two figures behind the light. I was seated at a table. My hands in magnetic cuffs that were secured to the durasteel table in front of me.

The feeling of failure overwhelmed me. I felt the stinging of tears building in the corners of my eyes. I was a failure. Everything in my life ended in failure. They got me. These are my final moments.

I'm going to end up just where all the other traitors do. I'm not going to go out crying though. I will die just like the people that raised me.

"Now that you are awake, we can begin." Said a male voice in a drawling inner-core accent. "I am Arbiter Spry of the south-west district of the of Imperial Center. This is the trial of.. Whats your name, kid?" he asked quickly.

My heart leaps into my throat. They don't recognize me as a Jedi?

What came out of my mouth was a wheezing moan. I couldn't feel my tongue or lips.

"Oh yes, You took a stun-bolt to the mouth a couple of hours ago. You won't be talking any time soon. Type your name here." The Arbiter thrust a datapad within reach of my fingers.

With my head pounding with the pulsing of my heartbeat, I typed the first thing I could think of. Sweaty trembling fingers typed in the letters awkwardly.

The datapad was jerked back by the man. I saw his figure through the lights lean toward the droid and mumble something i could not hear.

"Nellos Pyk, you are charged of one count of unlicensed joyriding. One count of reckless piloting. One count of obstructing justice. One count of resisting arrest. Twenty four counts of reckless endangerment. Two hundred and eighty three thousand credits in damages from the three collisions your idiotic joyriding has caused. And lastly, one count of disorderly conduct for your mouthing off to the traffic official over the com. How do you plead?"

The datapad that I had used to give the fake name was thrust back within reach of my fingers.

None of those crimes were punishable by firing squad. I wasn't going to die a traitor's death here and now. It made the 'GUILTY' I typed that much easier.

"These are very serious charges. By all rights, you should be on your way to the Kessel penal colony. But this is an Empire of laws. Laws meant to punish, and protect. Your medical scan puts your age at 16 and as such you are considered a juvenile here on Imperial Center. A few weeks ago the Emperor passed a law to help young misguided humans like you."

I looked at him with worried eyes.

_Did they know I was Jedi?_

"You will be remanded to the Imperial Military Academy of Cardia until graduation. You will sign this enlistment contract or you will serve ten years in the mines of Kessel."

I signed the enlistment datapad with relief.

Kessel would have been the better choice...


	5. Chapter 5

Part 1.0 of the Rim Conquests.

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After the highly successful Cuitric Offensive campaign, The Emperor is set on pushing Imperial rule throughout the galaxy. The planet Tervissis was one of the Core supporters of the Separatists. It has a large army of droids and near limitless arms factories. The planet is exceptionally fortified and entrenched. The Emperor wants the Ruling Council and Planetary Governor Captured and an example made of them. The Separatists must be brought to heel.

What was thought would be another quick Imperial victory soon became a battle of attrition. The Empire has endless battalions of troopers. The Emperor decided to use them to take the Rim worlds for the Empire.

No matter the cost.

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Late 18 BBY

The Arkanian clones are virtually lifeless. Grown in Sparti cylinders, within a years time. They make the humourless and strict Jango-class clones of Kamino seem like holo stars. Faces expressionless. Backs straight. Follow rules to the letter. No deviant or unorthodox thoughts or actions. Incapable of betrayal. Perfect in every way except for one.

They couldn't shoot a womp rat if it was three feet away and missing it's legs.

That is a problem for me...

In less than ten minutes, the doors of this shuttle are going to open. I'm the newly minted Junior Lieutenant of a platoon of Stormtroopers. Not only that, my high combat and aggression scores back on Cardi-Hell got me assigned to a position of honor.

The fist of the Emperor.

The spear's tip.

The crucible of glory.

The Shock-Stormtrooper Corps of the Galactic Empire.

"LZ in two minutes. Get your shit together boys. We're going in hot." Came the voice of Jango.

I can't describe the feelings that I felt when those words were spoken. Something between blinding terror and overwhelming depression mixed with bloodlust. I had a job to do though. I closed my eyes for a moment and channelled the fear and sadness into my body. Adrenaline began to pump, giving strength and focus to my troubled mind.

I will kill the enemy.

"You heard him! Make sure your packs are secure and get on those fucking cables! Double-time!" I shouted at the clones. Their sparkly white and red Phase-II clone-trooper armor, was as clean and unmarked as mine. The only difference between them and I was the paint on my helmet, marking me as a Lt.

Two red squares above two blue squares between two grey bars. A Junior Lieutenant on his first mission. Win a battle of attrition and survive by any means necessary. Get shoved into a overstuffed tin-can and get dropped into the middle of a blood-bath.

Die like the endless waves of plaststeel coated flesh before you.

"After we drop, we head east into the city. You all know your jobs. Stay together. This battle has been raging for six months. Two hundred thousand of 'our' brothers have died here on this piece of shit called Tervissis. Lets give them some Imperial justice." I spoke the empty words of encouragement as I patted my E-11 Blaster. It might not be in the regulations that a pep-talk was needed before battle, Kyp Sollen did it every time.

I felt the LAAT's shield get thumped a few times right before the port and starboard blaster doors opened. I attached my hook to the evac-cable and slid down with the 35 other 'men' of my platoon. A blaster round took the head off the first droid in front of me. The LAAT's Laser-cannons raked the top of the droid entrenchment as the rest of C company slid down the cables.

This was no city... It was a fortress.

The LAAT met it's end as it started to pull away for the next load of troopers. I heard the his of an Ion cannon strike the transport gunship. It hit the ground A few hundred meters away with a crash as metal flew through the air.

I threw a thermal detonator Into the closest foxhole and began to run to cover. Fear gripped me in a vice as I ran for cover through the chaotic battle field. I used it as fuel to run faster and harder than ever before. "Follow me!" I yelled the order into company-wide com. I jumped, ducked and shot my way to cover behind a wrecked walker. The clones followed the order.

I shot a Rodian between his dark eyes before ducking back down behind the walker. I checked my six and was shocked and disgusted by the view behind me. Eight troopers had made the run to cover through the storm of blaster-bolts. I felt even more fear and channelled it in a way I was becoming used to. I stared at the blasted and burning bodies of my men behind me as I gave the next order.

I really don't think I'm going to survive this. Might as well kill as many as I can before I go.

"Follow my lead and keep the kriff up, or you are going to die like them." I told them angrily, gesturing to their former comrades. My mind was more occupied with turning the fear into hatred and power.

"Yes sir!" came the replies.

There is no where to go but forward.

I see more LAATs coming in the distance. This walker we are hiding behind will be scrap well before they get here. I feel danger screaming at my senses and began to run toward the nearest row of trenches. I resisted the urge to fire wildly and kept my blaster steady as I ran. Bolt after bolt flew through the air and into the Seps and their droids. I and six survivors made it into the front trench.

There is no where to go but forward.


	6. Chapter 6

Part 1.1 of the Rim Conquests

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I moved with instinct alone. too fast for the conscious mind to process. Move to the left to dodge a blaster bolt. Fire a bolt between a droid's photoreceptors. Another round into a SB II's leg joint. Vibro-knife through It's red glowing center photoreceptor and into it's motivator. Lift a B-1 And use it as a shield against the squad of Bandie slave soldiers. Crush one Bandies' skull with the E-11's stock while firing into it's squad-mates. Disembowel the Tervig slave master with vibro-knife. Take his fragmentation detonator and toss it at the ion cannon operator.

All of this happened within the first ten seconds in the trench. As I knowingly killed for the first time, I felt the spirits of the beings cry out. I felt their horror and pain. I drew it in and relished it. It made me stronger then ever. The feelings reminded me of the little Jedi youngling's spirits as they cried out. The fear had turned to rage. The pain to power. I sucked it in like sweet blue milk.

Three clones survived the last ten seconds. I glanced over my shoulder at them. "Keep moving. If we stop, the mortar team will get a fix on us. Don't fall behind, and keep low." I don't know how long it would take for the next wave of expendable comrades to reach this position. i can hear LAATs in the distance. I can feel that if I wait for them, I will be dead before they arrive.

The only way to go is forward. The force is with me. Steadying my hands and giving sharpness to my senses. My helmet's view-screens are scratched and blocked with Bandie bodily fluids. The audio receivers are clogged with slimy green blood. I break protocol and remove my helmet. My senses are sharper than ever before. I feel the Bandie slave soldiers a few dozen yards away. I hear their three chambered hearts and smell their stench through the scent of their former comrade's vaporized innards. The keening hiss of a few B-1's droid-brains and the soft grinding of their cheap hydrological limbs.

I am for the first time, at one with the force. It sings to me and vibrates with rage, pain, and fear. I draw it in.

"This way." I say to the far cleaner troopers behind me before following my feelings.

The trenches are zigzaged and interconnected. Once, this was a city. I feel the pain and pleasures of ages past in echos of force power. The joy and pleasure of the Bandies long dead. The suffering and sadness of an entire species as it was enslaved, raped, and, oppressed by their Tervig cousins. The sweet sadistic pleasure of domination the Tervigs express at every opportunity. The little echos of tens of thousands of years of pain and misery. I draw the suffering into myself.

I exploded around the corner of the trench. A shiny vibro-sword scavenged from the Tervig officer went through two battle-droids in one swing. The E-11, I held one handed like a pistol and unloaded into the the mass of flesh. The Bandies clicked their death wails through pained insectiod-like mandibles. Their deaths felt like sickly sweet bon cakes. Addictive and delicious.

I fed some of the energy to the clones behind me. I felt them become angry for the first time in their lives. The force strengthened them. They joined my revel in the carnage. i sensed their new sense of rage at their lot in life. Their two short years of life have done nothing to prepare them for these feelings. I ran through the zigzagging trenches like a Kowakian monkey-lizard on deathsticks. Blasting and cutting, I killed without abandon. I did not tire. The force fed me.

The blue sun in the sky had begun to set when the regular stormtrooper clones began to catch up to me. I felt tiredness begin to creep into my mind passed the force-induced fog of violence. My clones were dead.

"Sir, Were retreating. Evac in ten minutes." A clone Sgt. told me as I was about to charge another trench. I was without my helmet and as such did not hear the losses we had suffered.

As the LAAT carried me back to the ship, I noticed the time. An hour and a half had passed since C platoon had deployed. I heard the reports coming in on the pilot's com.

"We need evac! We've taken heavy los*ugh* *Blaster fire*!

We're surrounded, we need backup! *Explosion*

No, Don't shoot me there! I surrendered! *Blaster fire*"

Back on the Venator, I followed protocol. I went directly to the Company command terminal and entered my code cylinder.


	7. Chapter 7

Part 1.2 of Rim Conquests

There are many specializations of Troopers in the Imperial military. Jump-Troopers attack and defend in the sky and high places. Riot-Troopers hold back the flood of alien filth from over-running important speeches or starving wretches storming Imperial supply depots. Stormtroopers patrol and maintain order and security on ships and in Imperial territory. Marine-Troopers patrol and defend the ships of the Imperial Navy. They all face danger and take casualties.

No other Trooper specialization faces the danger and casualties like the Shock-Troopers, though. Estimated life expectancy in the specialization is 6 months.

From one edge of the Galaxy to the other, Shock-Troopers are the front-line fighters in large-scale battles. First into the fight. First to kill. First to die. The Imperial Shock-Troopers take the burnt of the Imperial casualties in any Large-scale offensive engagement. They are seen as the most utterly expendable unit in the Imperial military.

High ranking officers in the Imperial military are never drawn from the ranks of the Shock-Troopers. Sons and daughters of privilege and wealth are never transferred to the specialization except as punishment. The clones that rank lowest in intelligence and combat acuity are usually sent to die in such a way. Shock-Toopers are truly the expendables of an expendable army.

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Mission accomplishment Quota...

100%...

Ion cannon status...

Destroyed...

Platoon C casualties...

97%...

Status?...

Standing orders?...

The computer started to whirl a grinding sound as it transmitted my report and request. !t took five minutes before i got the reply. The barracks around me was empty. No other platoons had returned from their missions yet. A boring wait in silence. I could smell the body fluids wafting off my armour as I sat, waiting.

90714th Attack Shock Trooper Battalion: Status...

Decommissioned...

Remaining troops...

.002%...

As listed...

Lt. N. Pyk, C Platoon, 2nd Company...

Orders...

Transfer to 90718th Attack Shock Trooper Battalion, 4th Company, Platoon D...

Deployment in 1.5 hours...

Deployment mission briefing: Hanger Bay 2, 1.25 hours...

I ripped my code cylinder from the machine and began to power-walk(as fast as protocol allowed) my way to the supply station. I passed plenty of staring Stormtroopers and shiny new red and white armoured shock-troopers. The gore and grime smeared and splattered across my body met faces of disgust from Senior officers I saluted in the halls on the way. I ran across one squad of similarly blood garbed Shock-troopers that nodded as I passed.

I made it to the supply station and inserted my code cylinder into the room's computer terminal. After reporting my helmet destroyed, I took advantage of my line rank for the first time. Platoon-Leader is my specialist rank. As my line rank was Lieutenant though, I could requisition different arms. Arms i could pay for with my own credits.

I set my battered and and overheated-barrelled E-11 onto the 'needs service' rack. My tactical belt was discarded. I had ran out of ammo and had to scavenge for ammo too much with the E-11.

All the credits to my name(fake) sucked into the terminal like a roasted Jawa down a Hutt's throat. The beep and click sounded as two DC-15 side arm blasters were released from their magnetic lock. I fastened on a new tactical belt with two holsters and thrice the standard load of thermal detonators. I stared at my new pistols for more than a few minutes. Thinking about how many beings I would kill with them.

The DC-15 has self charging power cells. No belt of power-cells needed. It's bolts will pierce a super battle-droid's armour on the first shot. Battery holds 250 shots with a recharge rate of 7 shots a second. Sturdy enough to crack a Wookie's skull...

Maybe.

I grabbed a red striped Lt.'s helmet out of one of the hover-crates, donned it, and made my way to the port-side Hanger bay. Upon entering, I lined up with the rest of platoon D in the fourth row of 4th company's troops at attention. As the Battalion Major made his way to the briefing podium, I wondered if he was going to deploy with the rest of us. I could see the Cliffside Officer's Academy pin on his black uniform. He was young, human, and I could smell the arrogance waft off him in waves. His thoughts echoed stronger than the near emotionless clones surrounding me.

He wondered what the Officer's caf would be serving at the next shift-change. I felt the slightest movements of the clones around me in the force. It was easier to connect with the force then ever before. The Major began to speak as the last troopers formed into ranks. He made no effort to introduce himself and jumped straight to the point. A holo projector kicked on with a hum.

"The 90718th Battalion will will disembark here, in two waves" The nameless Major gestured to a flashing city sector on the projected holo-map. I felt the force whisper something intelligible to me.

"First and third companies in the first wave will be dropped into this compound here. It is heavily shielded. 90717th Battalion will be attacking the power generators over... *crack*"

The Major was interrupted as the Venator's deck gave a lurch and started to vibrate more than normal. The major's feet slipped and his head hit the briefing podium. A light flashed in the Starboard hanger, visible through the energy shield separating it from the vacuum of space. The troops stood motionless as trained as we watched the poor pilots and mechanics in the starboard hanger get sucked into the void as their energy shield collapsed.

"Get the Major to the med-bay." Ordered the 1st Company Captain. Boarding alarm warnings began to sound as we stood motionless and watched as a dozen shuttles landed in the the starboard hanger and began unloading hundreds of droids. The Ship Commander's voice came over the Speaker-com.

"Repel boarders, priority to the bridge and engineering."

The Clone Captain of 1st company was in acting command and gave the orders. "1st and 2nd Companies to the bridge. 2nd and 3rd to engineering."

The clones around me began to move out.

I knew then and there that this Empire is doomed to fail with soldiers like this.

Instead of turning around to head to engineering, I walked forward. After stuffing my heavy blasters between my body suit and armour, I unfastened my tactical belt. 4th Company's Captain tried to grab my arm and redirect me before my fist lanced into his helmet. I pressed the activation button on all my detonators. Troopers ran away as they started their beeping count-down.

As they hit the two second mark, I tossed them through the Port-side energy shield and into the opposite hanger.

I was thankful for the helmet's ability to darken the eye screens when exposed to blast light. I got to watch the droid transport's reactors explode and destroy the entire boarding army before the force screamed a warning.

"You are under arrest for insubordination." The Captain of 1st company intoned behind me.

And that was the end of my first day on Teravissis.


End file.
